


Hawkeye Undercover

by Kaci



Category: MASH (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:15:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28317363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaci/pseuds/Kaci
Summary: This takes place shortly after MacArthur visits the MASH unit. The show didn't seem to worry too much about the actual date or even year, so neither am I. Radar, Henry, Hawkeye, and Trapper find out a bit about MacArthur's plans, and Hawkeye is having none of it.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. In which Hawkeye is shocked and disappointed

“I can’t believe he didn’t even stop!” Henry moaned to his staff in the mess tent. “All that preparation, the detailed schedule, do this, do that, and he just drives through, barely looks at the place!”

“The nerve of the man!” Klinger groused. “He didn’t even comment on my Lady Liberty outfit. Took me all week to pull it together.”

Hawkeye shook his head. “Face it, Henry. MacArthur doesn’t care about this side of the war. He’s not interested in what happens to the casualties. All he’s interested in our lines on a map, not actual human beings.”

“That’s unfair,” Margaret Houlihan protested. “He’s a very busy man, and a brilliant general. He doesn’t have time to oversee every little thing.”

“Right, little things like bullets tearing up kids that barely need to shave. Maybe if he saw more of that, the peace talks would get somewhere,” Hawkeye responded.

“Well, that’s just like you,” Frank interjected. “Using wounded soldiers as a prop for your own cowardly ways! If we make peace because our soldiers are getting killed, their sacrifice is for nothing!”

Trapper shook his head. “We can always count on people like you to keep the war going. I’m heading back to the Swamp. You coming, Hawk?”

Hawkeye lifted his tray. “Yeah, the patriotism in this crowd is a bit too much for me.”

***

Trapper and Hawkeye burst into Henry’s office. “Okay, time to pay up,” Hawkeye said.

“What are you talking about?” Henry asked.

Trapper put his hands on the desk and leaned forward in a way that may have appeared more menacing had he not been wearing a Hawaiian shirt. “You said that if MacArthur’s visit went well and we didn’t cause any trouble, you’d show us one of those films you order specially. We kept our part of the bargain; now it’s time to keep yours.”

“You’re bringing this up now? That was a week ago.”

“Yeah,” Hawkeye replied, “A week during which we were in O.R. an average of eighteen hours out of twenty-four. Yesterday was for sleeping, showering, and forcing down some of what passes for food around here. Today things are quiet, I’m bored, and I’d like to see some anatomy that doesn’t have shrapnel in it.”

Henry sighed. “All right, I’ll call Radar in to set up the projector….Radar!”

The door opened and Radar entered faster than he could have responded to Henry. “I know you want me to set up the projector, sir, but I think you’re going to want to see this.” He handed Henry a creased and dirty sheaf of papers.

“What is this?” Henry asked as Hawkeye and Trapper moved to peer over his shoulder.

“Well, sir, I noticed it after MacArthur, that is General MacArthur, left. It was on the ground. I didn’t know it was; I was just trying to keep the camp neat, honest. But once I picked it up, well, I couldn’t help seeing it, and I kind of decoded it. I didn’t mean to! Don’t tell I-Corps on me!”

Henry looked over the paper with the names of over 30 air bases, bridges, and supply depots. “This is a target list.”

Radar swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“These damage projections…these could only be reached with atomic weapons.”

Radar’s quiet “Yes, sir” was drowned out by Hawkeye bolting to his feet and slamming his fist down hard on the desk. “Is he out of his mind? Does he know what that would do the country, to the people that live here? We get enough injuries from civilians wandering into minefields, let alone radioactive craters!”

“Radar,” Henry said, “contact the training films. See if you can discreetly get anything about treating radiation-“

“I’ll see if I can get anything about treating radiation-related injuries, sir,” Radar finished. “Only I’ll have to be quiet-like about it, tell them we need more variety or something.”

“Variety, yeah, that’s just what we need,” Trapper muttered.

Hawkeye threw his arms out in frustration. “That’s your solution? We’re looking at thousands of people killed with atomic bombs, and you want to ask nicely for some first-aid training for radiation burns? I saw the New Yorker articles while I was doing my residency. Our worst days in the O.R. don’t even come close to the devastation this would cause!”

Henry shook his head. “What do you want me to do, Hawkeye? We aren’t supposed to know about this. Even asking for the training might look suspicious if I-Corps finds out about it. Besides,” he paused for a minute, knowing Hawkeye wouldn’t like what he had to say. “Besides, he is a brilliant general. If this works, maybe it’ll end the war and we can go home.”

“That’s just great! We go home, and the Koreans get to live in a radioactive sandbox! We’ll be going now, thanks for your hospitality, sorry about destroying your country, but at least we stopped Communism!” 

“What he said,” Trapper shot off as he followed Hawkeye out the door.

***

On his way back to the Swamp, Trapper was waylaid by Klinger shouldering a rifle over his blue polka dot dress and demanding the password. “Not in the mood,” Trapper said, shoving the rifle aside.

“Somebody’s got their panties in a twist…sir!” Klinger said as he came to attention.

By the time Trapper pushed through the flimsy door to the swamp, Hawkeye was already two drinks in. “I can’t believe even MacArthur is seriously considering atomic weapons.”

“Well, I think it’s about time,” Frank replied. “someone needs to show those Commies what’s what, teach them what happens when they mess with the U.S.A.”

“I’m sure they’re come running to join us when their children die of radiation poisoning,” Trapper said as he poured himself a glass of rotgut.

“If they don’t want to deal with the consequences of being Korean, they shouldn’t live in Korea,” Frank protested.

Trapper nodded. “Sounds like good advice. Maybe I should leave Korea.”

“That’s just like you,” Frank sneered. “You don’t have a patriotic bone in your body.”

“Right,” said Hawkeye, “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Unless you happen to be Korean; then you don’t even get life.”

“You pinkos!” Frank stalked out of the tent, slamming the door behind him.

“Good riddance,” Trapper muttered.

“We’ve gotta do something,” Hawkeye said as he poured himself another drink. “We can’t let this happen.”

“I don’t like it either, but Henry’s right, what can we do?”

“Maybe I’ll find the answer at the bottom of the still.”

***

Trapper awoke to a none-too-gentle shaking. “Louse, what is it? Are the girls all right?”

“Trapper, it’s me. You’re in Korea. Which is going to become a hot moonscape if we don’t stop MacArthur.”

“Dammit, Hawk, the one time I can get a bit of sleep..”

“I have a plan,” Hawkeye said. “We’re going to go undercover, pretend to be MacArthur, and tell Truman we’ve changed our minds about the atomic weapons.”

“We.”

“Well, yeah, I think you’ll make a better MacArthur, and I can be your aide.”

“No way, Hawk. This is your boneheaded idea, you can be the one that gets court-martialed for impersonating the general in charge of the whole damn war.”

“Fine, we can do it that way. I just didn’t want to be the one to hog all the glory.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re still coming with me, though. MacArthur never travels without an aide.”

Trapper shrugged. “I can do with some time away from camp. How are we going to get permission, though?”

“That’s the easy part; I’ll have Radar scrounge up some three-day passes and turn days into weeks. For the rest of it, just follow my lead.”

***

Major Margaret Houlihan brushed out her long, blonde hair and put it up in a regulation bun. She had a few minutes left before she went on duty, and she thought she’d take the time to catch up on Stars and Stripes. Naturally, a knock rattled her door as soon as she sat down. “Not now, Frank!” she practically growled.

“It’s not Frank, it’s us!” Hawkeye replied.

Margaret reluctantly opened the door. “What do you want?” she scowled.

“Easy, Margaret, we’re here for a good cause. Your family is close to MacArthur, right?”

“Yes….” She said suspiciously.

“Well, you know Henry was really disappointed that he just drove through,” Hawkeye replied.

“MacArthur, that is,” Trapped added helpfully.

“Right,” Hawkeye said. “Henry was really disappointed that MacArthur didn’t even stop and look around or anything. So we thought we’d have MacArthur Day to cheer him up.”

“MacArthur Day,” Houlihan said flatly.

“Well, more of MacArthur themed party. The usual drinking and shenanigans, but with some stories about MacArthur, and maybe we can put some of your pictures up. We can all say the things to Henry that he wished MacArthur would say, compliment him on what a good MASH unit he runs, that kind of thing.”

Houlihan’s skeptical look broke into a grin. “That’s such a sweet idea! Let me see what pictures we can use. I just had them out the other day when we thought the general would be staying…here we go. This one’s more of a portrait, but that one really shows him in action.”

Trapper picked up the photos. “Thanks Major, we’ll get these back to you unharmed.”

Something about the twinkle in Trapper’s eye raised Margaret’s suspicions again. “See that you do. I’ll take them back myself after the party’s over, and I expect them to look just like they do now.”


	2. In which Hawkeye explores sewing, religion, and psychology

Hawkeye and Trapper burst into Klinger’s tent without bothering to knock. “Hey, Klinger, we have a project for you,” Hawkeye said.

“No way, I already have K.P. I’m not taking on any additional duties,” Klinger replied.

“You’ve got it all wrong,” Trapper said. “This is strictly unofficial.”

“And it’s a sewing project,” Hawkeye said with a grin.

Klinger adjusted his turquoise crinoline gown and sat down cross-legged on his camp stool. “Tell me more.” 

Hawkeye brought out the pictures they’d borrowed from Major Houlihan. “We need to replicate the uniforms of General MacArthur and his aide.”

“Why would you want to do that? There’s no style, no color. Let me fix you up with a nice suit instead, something more flattering than that old robe you always wear.”

Trapper shook his head, “Sorry, Klinger, it has to be MacArthur.”

“That pathetic excuse for a general didn’t even stick around long enough to note my obvious insanity.”

“We’re more worried about his insanity,” Hawkeye replied. “You absolutely can’t repeat this to anyone, but Radar found some papers MacArthur lost while he was here, and they say he wants to use atomic bombs in Korea.”

“What? That’s insane!”

“As we were saying,” Hawkeye noted. “Obviously, we can’t let that happen. So we’re going to impersonate MacArthur and his aide and go to Tokyo or wherever we have to go and get the plan rescinded.”

“Damn, I wish I’d thought of that! You guys are even crazier than me!”

“I’m serious, Klinger,” Hawkeye pressed.

“All right, all right. I’ll do it. Twenty bucks. And you have to find the material for me. I don’t keep anything around in olive, drab, or khaki. When you go to Tokyo, make sure you slouch down a bit. You’ve got a couple inches on the general.”

***

“Where are we going to get the material Klinger needs for our outfits?” Hawkeye wondered.

“We’ll go to Sang Yu,” Trapper replied.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? That suit he made you was backwards!”

“The pattern, sure, but it fit great. Besides, we don’t need him to do the sewing, just sell us the fabric.”

“Good point, let’s go.”

They purchased Sang Yu’s entire stock of khaki sateen and broadcloth, as well as five yards of yellow charmeuse as a thank-you gift for Klinger. He was ecstatic over the fabric. “This will be enough for a summer dress and a matching bag! There’s a new pattern I’ve been wanting to try, but your project will come first, of course.”

“Thanks, Klinger,” Hawkeye said, clasping Klinger’s shoulder. “I’m glad we can count on you.”

“Yes, sir!” Klinger saluted. “You two will be the best-dressed officer impersonators in all of Korea!”

***

Over the next few days, several choppers and ambulances brought casualties to the 4077th, so Hawkeye and Trapper didn’t have time to work on their plans, and Klinger had very little time to sew, being pressed into service as an orderly. After their second fourteen-hour shift in thirty-six hours, they had a few minutes to sit down in the Swamp and discuss things while Frank went to visit Major Houlihan.   
“I’m pretty sure Radar can get us the passes,” Hawkeye said, “but what if another load of casualties like this comes in while we’re gone? The place won’t be able to handle being down two surgeons, and we can’t ask Henry to help find us replacements.”

“I think Father Mulcahy might have some contacts,” Trapper suggested.

“How do we get the good father to help us out?”

“We might try telling him the truth.” They flipped a coin to see who would talk to the priest, and Hawkeye lost the toss. He went to the chaplain’s tent on his next off-duty shift.

“What is it, my son?” Mulcahy asked as Hawkeye entered. The priest turned around. “Oh, Hawkeye, it’s certainly a surprise to see you here.”

“Listen, Father, I need your help. Well, Trapper and I both do, actually.”

“Of course. The struggles of war can lead to all sorts of temptations and dark nights of the soul,” Mulcahy said gently.

Hawkeye sat down for a moment, pushed himself up to standing again, and began to pace around the tent. “How can you be here, Father? I thought the Bible was pretty clear on that ‘Thou shalt not kill’ thing.”

“My role isn’t as a combatant,” the priest replied. “I’m here to provide spiritual guidance and comfort to those that are called to fight. I don’t know what I would do if I were asked to actually wield a weapon in combat.”

“I know what I would do,” Hawkeye muttered.

“And yet, you’re also here, despite your oath to ‘first, do no harm,’” Mulcahy pointed out.

“Yeah, well, my draft board had a few things to say about that. And while I’m here, I might as well save as many lives as I can.” Hawkeye sat down again and ran his fingers through his hair. “Thing is, right now saving lives is going to involve more than doing surgery, and that’s where I’m going to need your help.”

Mulcahy looked intently at Hawkeye. “How so?”

“Trapper and I are going to have to be away for a while. We can’t leave the MASH unit understaffed, and we can’t ask Henry for help. Trapper thought you could scare up temporary replacements for us.”  
“This is a very serious request,” Mulcahy said, flustered. “You’re asking me to help you go AWOL. I should report you to Henry myself right now.”

Hawkeye sighed. He hadn’t really wanted to get into the details with Mulcahy, but it didn’t look like he’d have a choice. “Let me ask you something, Father. What does your church say about atomic weapons?”

“Well, it’s complicated,” the priest replied. “We try to consider things in light of the Just War theory.”

“There’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one,” Hawkeye muttered.

“Yes, well, the idea is that countries have the right to defend themselves and their allies, so war can’t be entirely forbidden because it would allow free rein to aggressor countries. But there are limits to what people can morally justify even in war. In the last war, most people thought using the atomic bomb ended the war and saved more lives, but I have to confess I’m uncomfortable with that reasoning. So many civilians killed, even children.”'

“Take that and multiply it by thirty,” Hawkeye said. “Or maybe only ten, if we want to be conservative in our estimates of devastation.”

“What are you saying?”

Hawkeye explained their evidence that MacArthur planned to use atomic weapons on military targets in Korea. “We have to make sure that doesn’t happen, and I can’t think of any other way to do it. No one’s going to listen to a couple drafted captains, even if they are brilliant surgeons.”

“All right, you’ve convinced me. I’ll get someone to cover you. And Godspeed.”

***

The air in the supply tent was thick with cigar smoke from the regular poker game. “Three Jacks,” said Henry. “Pay up.”

“That does it for me,” said Klinger.

“I’m out too,” agreed Mulcahy.

“It is getting late,” said Trapper. “Probably time to call it a night.” 

As people pushed chairs back into place and drifted out into the dark, chilly camp, Hawkeye put a hand on Sidney Freedman’s shoulder. “Hold back a minute, will you?”

“Of course, Hawkeye, what do you need?”

“I need the guidance of an observant eye; I need you to help me convince people that I’m General MacArthur.”

“Is this another of your pranks?” Sidney asked. “You always seem to know just what’s needed to lift people’s spirits around here, though I don’t know how pretending to be the general is going to help.”

“In this case, it’s not so much about lifting people’s spirits as keeping them firmly attached to their bodies,” Hawkeye said and explained yet again about MacArthur’s atomic plan.

Sidney shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t think this is likely to work.” Hawkeye started to protest, and Sidney held up a hand. “It’s not likely to work, but I understand that you need to try. Especially out here where there’s so little you can control, I know it’s important for you to assert yourself where you can.”


	3. In which Hawkeye is off and running

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quotes from General MacArthur and descriptions of his personality are from Toner, J.H. 1977 Douglas MacArthur: Colorful Leader, Colorless Times. Social Science 52(4): 212-220. Mistakes, exaggerations, and narrative license are, of course, entirely mine.

“There’s a little more at stake here than my quest for self-actualization,” Hawkeye argued.

“And if you succeed, all the better. I’ll do my best to help you. First off, you’ll need a riding crop.”

Hawkeye waggled his eyebrows. “Sidney…not on the first date.”

“MacArthur carries one around, salutes with it even. It’s those little mannerisms that’ll help you.”

“Riding crop, check.” Hawkeye made a show of writing down a note. “I think Hot Lips has one. For equestrian purposes, of course. Trapper and I will find a way to get hold of it.”

“How about the rest of your outfit? The general has a touch of the dramatic.”

“That’s covered; Klinger is working from Houlihan’s pictures of him.”

“Well, at least you’ll have something that will last. Now, as far as personality goes, MacArthur is extremely self-assured. One might almost say haughty. He doesn’t expect to be fawned over or waited upon, but he doesn’t expect anyone to get in his way either. You’ll need to project that sense of self-containment. Head up, shoulders back. Move quickly, with purpose, and don’t let anyone slow you down.”

“Sounds great, the less I talk the less chance anyone will realize I’m not who I’m not saying I am.”

“The hardest part will be when you do talk. You’ll have to express values that are, to put it mildly, out of step with yours. The cognitive dissonance will be uncomfortable, but you can overcome it by reminding yourself that your true values are served by the pretense.”

“You can save the pep talk,” Hawkeye said. “It’s not like I haven’t fibbed for a prank before.”

“I think this will be harder, but let’s give it a try. I’m going to give you some statements. Practice saying them until you can convince yourself that you believe them, and that they’re the core of your character. Let everything else you say flow out of those core beliefs. Here we go: ‘The safety and honor of the United States is of paramount importance.’”

Hawkeye straightened his back, squared his shoulders and repeated back, “The safety and honor of the United States is of paramount importance.”

“Now try it without the Groucho Marx accent,” Sidney replied. “Maybe it’ll be easier if you don’t think of the United States as a political entity. When you’re saying ‘United States,’ think ‘Crabapple Cove.’”

“I’m pretty sure the North Koreans and the Chinese aren’t a threat to Crabapple Cove,” Hawkeye said, “and I don’t know that the place has any honor to speak of.” Nonetheless, he did manage to sound more serious on his second attempt.

“Very good, now this one: ‘If we acknowledge the prerogative of the individual to disregard the obligations placed upon him by American citizenship, it seems only logical to ask him to forego all rights guaranteed him by such citizenship.’”

Hawkeye shook his head. “Uh-uh, that’s way too long. What does the guy do, walk around with a thesaurus?”

Sidney raised an eyebrow. “Your objection is to the length of the statement?”

“What else could it be? I fell asleep before I got to the end of it.”

“The statement was part of his response to a report showing support for pacifism among the clergy, so it is a bit more formal than typical speech. Feel free to put it in your own words,” Sidney replied.

“In my own words, it sounds like he’s saying that being born on a piece of land and trying to live out your live obligates you to go out to some other piece of land and kill the people who are trying to live out their lives there. And likely get shot up yourself in the process. Though it’s hard to say what citizenship rights he’s thinking of. Most of these kids aren’t even old enough to vote.”

“You obviously disagree with him; that’s why you’re emphasizing different aspects of the situation. But you’re not wrong, either. Try to think about what it would be like to believe that sincerely. From what I understand, MacArthur isn’t a sadist. I doubt he takes pleasure in violence and death, but he’s more willing to see it as an acceptable price. Can you put yourself in that mindset?”

“I don’t know,” Hawkeye admitted. “When you’ve taken enough shrapnel out of kids to start your own scrap metal operation, it’s hard to see that cost as worthwhile. And I don’t see our supposed enemies as much of a threat, either. They bleed and die exactly the same.”

“Well, we won’t recommend you for I-Corps,” Sidney said. “Just try to talk as if you believe in the war. Say the words and cross your fingers and hope no one looks too closely.”

***

Klinger agreed to drive Hawkeye and Trapper to Seoul, modified three-week passes in hand. Despite the passes, they left at night since Henry certainly wouldn’t have given them permission to be away that long. Once they found lodging in the city, they changed into their disguises, Hawkeye with his general’s stars, custom hat, and corncob pipe and Trapper in the more subdued uniform of his aide. “How do I look?” Hawkeye asked.

“It’s going to be a challenge standing straight and tall and also trying to look two inches shorter,” Trapper said, “but the outfit is good. You look much more military than usual.”

“Klinger’s outdone himself, but I’m not sure this is going to work. I don’t think my height is going to be our biggest problem.”

“Getting cold feet? We can catch a jeep to camp and be back before dawn.”

“No, we’ve got to stop this. Korea has no idea it’s counting on two drafted surgeons to save it from becoming a fireball.”

The next day dawned bright and sunny, for which Hawkeye and Trapper were profoundly grateful. Sunglasses might make the difference for obscuring their identities. They paid for their room and made their way to the military transport station. Hawkeye marched up to the counter. “My aide and I need to get to Tokyo immediately. Put us on the next plane.”

“Just a moment, sir, let me check the passenger manifest. You haven’t made arrangements yet?”

“I’m running the whole darn war; you think I know where I need to be far enough in advance to make arrangements? I show up, you put me on a plane. That’s how this works.”

The transport officer glanced at Hawkeye’s stars, took in the pipe and cap. “My apologies, General, I didn’t recognize you. Only seen pictures, you know. May I see your identification, please?”

Hawkeye made a brusque gesture and Trapper took out two identification cards. Radar had studied the ID of the last general that had visited the 4077, just in case it was ever something he needed to know. Apparently, his fakes were good enough, because the transport officer scheduled them for the next plane. “Shall I arrange for your usual lodgings, sir?”

“Yes, please give my aide the details. He’s new and I don’t want him getting lost if he has to go out on his own.”

Trapper rolled his eyes a bit, but didn’t protest. They had to get the address somehow, and it wouldn’t do for “MacArthur” to forget where he usually stayed. The transport official scrawled an address on a small card, and Trapper tucked it into his jacket.

***

“I can’t believe that actually worked!” Hawkeye said as they seated themselves on the plane, being careful to keep his voice low.

“Tokyo will be the real test,” Trapper replied quietly.

“I’m going to catch a few winks; barely slept all last night, I was so nervous,” Hawkeye said. By the time he finished speaking, Trapper was already asleep. 

***

“General, wake up, sir, we’re here.” Trapper waited for Hawkeye to respond. “General MacArthur, sir, we’ve landed in Tokyo. Would you like to finish your nap at the hotel?” Hearing only snores, he bent down and hissed, “Hawkeye! Wake up!”

“Huh, what?” Hawkeye looked around drowsily.

Trapper stood up straight. “General MacArthur, we’ve arrived in Tokyo, sir.”

“Ohh, General MacArthur, that’s a good one,” Hawkeye grinned, shaking his finger at Trapper.

Trapper caught Hawkeye’s hand as if to help him up and squeezed hard enough to feel the bones. “We’d better get you settled before your appointment, General.”

Hawkeye’s nervous system finally caught up with his reality. He sat up straight and squared his shoulders. “Yes, let’s be off, lots to do.”

Trapper made a show of carrying Hawkeye’s bag. “Good thing you me with you, sir,” he said pointedly. “You should never be allowed to travel alone.”

***

Hawkeye lay on the comfortable hotel bed staring at the ceiling. “The problem with these fancy hotel rooms is that they don’t come with a still. How am I supposed to get any drinking done here?”

“I thought we were here to prevent a war crime,” Trapper replied.

“That’s why I need to be drinking.” Hawkeye half-rolled, half-launched himself off the bed. “Come on, I think there’s a bar downstairs.”

“That seems pretty risky, Hawk. The more time we spend out and about, the more likely someone is to realize we’re not who we say we are. What if we just go down as ourselves, without our costumes?”

“And risk being sent back to the 4077th? I don’t want Henry to kill me until after I finish what I came here to do. There’s no way I can sit in this room sober all evening. You coming or not?”


	4. In which Hawkeye tears up Tokyo

Trapper sighed and followed Hawkeye down to the hotel bar. It was smaller than he would have expected in a place like this, and relatively uncrowded. Maybe the people who stayed in the hotel preferred to seek their good times elsewhere, which didn’t bode well for the drinking options. On the other hand, it was unlikely to be worse than what they got from the still, though almost certainly much more expensive. Trapper at least managed to convince Hawkeye that the “general” should get a table while he ordered the drinks; people would be less likely to question a mere aide.

“This place has great service,” Hawkeye said as Trapper handed him a scotch. “I should come here all the time.”

“Very funny,” Trapper muttered. “Make that last. At these prices, we’re not going to get more than a light buzz.”

The two sipped their drinks in silence. The place wasn’t exactly jumping, but Hawkeye had to admit that was probably for the best. The blonde in the corner seemed to be having a tiff with her companion. Probably the gentleman’s fault. Regardless of whose fault it was, the gentleman was a fool. Hawkeye would confess to anything to have those long legs wrapped around him and run his fingers through that lustrous hair. The man stood up, slammed some money on the table, and stormed off, nearly running into the next person to enter the bar.

After dodging the angry patron, the new arrival sauntered the rest of the way in, furtively glancing around as if trying to find someone without being seen. A losing proposition in this case; the room was small and the newcomer both exposed and conspicuously outfitted with a sherwani and an artificial mustache. He grabbed a drink from the bar and made his way over to Hawkeye and Trapper with exaggerated casualness.

“You don’t know me, but I know you,” the newcomer said as he seated himself at their table.

“Colonel Flagg, about time you reported in,” Hawkeye said, “though if you have a new intelligence report, this is hardly the place.”

“My name is not Colonel Flagg. I am Gian Holkar of the Commonwealth Forces. Also, I am not here.”

“Right,” said Trapper. “You have a good evening, Mr. Holkar. The general has a long day tomorrow.”

“You won’t catch me with your subtle snares,” the man who was not Colonel Flagg replied. “What takes you so far from your post? And don’t think of lying to me; I can smell deceit.” He sniffed exaggeratedly. 

“My entire plan is to get a good night’s sleep and head in to the Dai Ichi building tomorrow like I always do,” Hawkeye replied.

The familiar man leaned over the table. “I know you…Pierce…and McIntyre,” he said, pitching his voice just above a whisper. “I wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that you’re Communist sympathizers. So you better tell me just what you’re doing in Tokyo before I drag you in front of I-Corps.”

“What do the Commonwealth Forces have to do with I-Corps?” Trapper asked.

The supposed Commonwealth soldier narrowed his eyes. “Don’t trifle with me, soldier.”

Hawkeye took off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay, okay, you caught me, Colonel Holkar or Gian Flagg or whatever your name is. There’s a General MacArthur look-alike contest tomorrow. I was just here to get in character. What do you think of my outfit?”

“This is Klinger’s work, I suppose?”

“The very same.”

Trapper tilted his head. “How you know who Klinger is? I know his Section 8 stunts are pretty crazy, but I can’t imagine he’s known throughout other services.”

Colonel Flagg lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. “I was never here.” Then he swept his arm across the table, knocking all the glasses to shatter on the floor. He grabbed the tablecloth, wrapped it around his head and shoulders, and dashed out the door.

***

“It’s way too early,” Hawkeye groaned when Trapper awakened him the next morning.

“We should have taken the time to find out if our general is a morning person or a night owl,” Trapper shrugged.

“He’s gotta be a night owl,” Hawkeye said. “No one sane would be up at this hour.”

“Are you saying MacArthur is sane?”

Hawkeye rolled over, his face to the wall. “Good point. Let’s go back to sleep and try this in the evening.”

Trapper yanked on Hawkeye’s arm and threw the general’s cap in his face, which had a mixed effect on physically getting his friend up but at least made the point. After a few more perfunctory grumbles, Hawkeye was transformed into General MacArthur.

The pair made their way to the Dai Ichi building. They flashed their false identification cards past security but were stopped by a businesslike soprano. “May I help you, sirs?”

Hawkeye squared his shoulders and turned towards the receptionist. “Just heading up to get started with the day, miss.”

“I’ll need to put your name in the logbook, please.”

“Don’t you know who I am?” Hawkeye said with a growl that threatened to become a roar.

The receptionist seemed to shrink a few inches. “No, sir, I just need your name for the logbook.”

“I’m General MacArthur,” Hawkeye began to roar. “I’m in charge of this whole damned war, and you’re endangering the entire United States by wasting my time!”

“I’m sorry, general,” the receptionist replied, “but the logbook says General MacArthur came in half an hour ago.”

“That’s right,” Trapper said quickly. “He went out the back way to meet me. I’m his new aide, and I’m afraid I got lost. My first time in Tokyo.”

The receptionist frowned. “All changes in staff are supposed to be recorded at the central office at least three days before arrival.”

“Now look here,” Hawkeye finally roared in earnest. “I need to make a confidential phone call to the president on a matter of national security! Here’s my ID, now get out of my way!”

“Yes, sir,” the receptionist stammered after a quick glance at the ID card. “Have a good day, sir.”

***

“Well, aren’t I the world’s biggest heel,” Hawkeye said once he and Trapper were safely ensconced in the elevator. “Poor girl’s just trying to do her job.”

“Trying to keep people like us from doing what we’re doing,” Trapper pointed out.

“Thanks, that really helps,” Hawkeye said sarcastically.

“It had to be done,” Trapper said. “We’re this close to saving thousands of lives. You’ve always been good for acting like a jerk in order to save a life.” He punched Hawkeye companionably on the arm.

“You really know how to salve a guy’s conscience,” Hawkeye replied, rubbing his arm.

“Shh, this is our floor.” 

The two strode casually out of the elevator and headed towards MacArthur’s private office. Fortunately for their blood pressure, the halls were largely empty, the building’s inhabitants either not in yet or already hard at work behind closed doors. They stopped short, however, as they approached the general’s office and a booming voice shook the doorframe. “I don’t care about your excuse, just get it done!”

“Uh-oh,” said Hawkeye.

“I think the general is in,” Trapper noted.

“We’ve gotta hide,” Hawkeye said, glancing around the featureless hall. “Not many choices. That corner, away from the elevator. We’ll just sit quietly and wait for him to leave.”

***

“It’s been forty minutes, what is he doing in there?” Hawkeye complained.

“His job?” Trapper suggested. “Wait, the door’s opening.” The frame creaked and General MacArthur stepped out, heading right towards them.

“What’s he doing, what’s he doing?” Hawkeye panicked. “He’s supposed to be heading for the elevator.”

“Just our luck; we’re trying to impersonate the one general who takes the stairs.”

“Okay, we need to hide, quickly. Come on!” Hawkeye grabbed Trapper’s hand and dragged him into the stairwell and down to the next floor. He threw the door open and flattened himself against the wall.

“Maybe you should try looking a bit more natural, just in case anyone come by,” Trapper suggested. Barely a moment later, an officer did pass by; Hawkeye managed to straighten up and return his salute just in time.

As footsteps echoed down the stairs, Hawkeye urged Trapper to go out and check the situation. “You’re less likely to be questioned if the general notices.”

Trapper sighed but looked up and down the stairwell and made a quick survey of the hallway and the general’s office. Hearing nothing behind the office door, he headed back down to Hawkeye. “Coast is clear,” he said, “but I don’t know how you plan to get into the office.”

“One of my many skills,” Hawkeye said as they walked. “I told my Scout leader I should be able to get a merit badge for lockpicking. He refused, and that was the end of my Scouting career. Especially after I picked the lock to his shed so I could make out with his daughter Marcy. She wasn’t supposed to go out with boys her parents hadn’t approved, so we didn’t go out.”

“Somehow I doubt they saw things your way.”

“I was invited never to return to the Scout troop. But these fingers haven’t lost their touch; it’s not so different from surgery.”

“Just hurry up. I’m nervous standing out here.”

“Just one more tumbler…and…got it!” Hawkeye unbent and scurried into MacArthur’s office with Trapper following close behind. “If anyone comes to the door, tell them the general is on an important call and can’t be disturbed.” Hawkeye sat down in the general’s chair and took a minute to lean back and put his feet on the desk.

“Stop goofing off,” Trapper protested.

Sitting up straight, Hawkeye picked up the phone and dialed the operator. “This is General MacArthur. I need to talk to the president right away.”

“Yes, sir, just a moment,” said a voice on the other end of the line. A few minutes passed, then, “The president is occupied with other matters of state just now. Is this an emergency?”

“Of course it’s an emergency! We’ve got hundreds of people dying out here every week! Now you get me the president or else!” Hawkeye bellowed.

“This better be good, General,” a voice said. “Sawyer and Chapman are waiting for me with some new proposal.”

“I’ll get right to the point. The atomic attack plan for Korea needs to be cancelled. It’s unworkable and will involve too many civilians getting killed. Not to mention the potential for fallout and long-term damage to the land these people farm.”

“Have you been drinking, General? What makes you think this is so important you need to interrupt my Cabinet meeting for it?”

Hawkeye managed the presence of mind not to snap back at the Commander in Chief about the importance of the lives at risk. “I’m concerned for the honor of the United States, sir. If we go ahead with this it could…um…provoke…ah…an international incident.”

“Yes, well, we’ll discuss this at my regular briefing. I’ll certainly keep your words in mind. But I expect you to have things in hand over there; you need to be able to distinguish what is and is not an emergency.”

“Unbelievable.” Hawkeye looked up after replacing the phone in its cradle to see Trapper pushing hard against the door.

“General MacArthur is on an important phone call right now,” Trapper squeaked.

“You fool! I’m General MacArthur!” Trapper barely had time to move out of the way as the door was shoved in hard. “What’s the meaning of this?” the general roared.

Hawkeye sent Trapper a meaningful glance, telling him to get out while he could. “Singing telegram?” Hawkeye grinned and began singing. “Hurrah for the flag of the free, may it wave as our standard forever….no? Right then, gotta run. No tip? I tell you, this job is getting worse and worse.” He crouched and dodged as he bantered, slamming the door on his way out. He found Trapper waiting loyally in the stairway. 

“How’d it go?” Trapper asked as they descended in a rush. “I could only hear your end, and I was pretty well occupied towards the end.”

Between his frustration with the phone call and the adrenaline rush of being caught, Hawkeye had worked himself into a lather. “I can’t believe the man!” he practically shouted. “I come all the way over here, call the president himself, and he just wants to postpone it until later! As if later’s going to be an option for us! I tell you, everything about this war is rotten, from the president down…oof!” A stiff elbow in the ribs interrupted his tirade, and Hawkeye noticed that everyone in the reception area was staring at him. He stood tall and threw back his shoulders. “What are you all looking at? Haven’t you ever seen a man who’s loyal to his country?” 

“This way, General,” Trapper murmured and dragged Hawkeye out before he had a chance to do any more damage.

***

A few weeks later, Hawkeye, Trapper, Henry, and the rest of the crew shared a few quiet minutes over coffee in the mess tent. Henry had soundly chewed out Hawkeye and Trapper for their escapade, but he relented from inflicting any real punishment since they covered for Radar and since they had at least found substitutes before they dashed off. 

“Listen to this,” Klinger said. “General MacArthur has been relieved of duty in Korea. Apparently, he was overhead publicly condemning the president’s conduct of the war. He denies it, but there were a half dozen witnesses.”

Hawkeye and Trapper quickly excused themselves and made their way back to the Swamp, laughing.


End file.
